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“I must say I’m a bit intrigued by your interest in becoming his conservator.” Her shrewd gaze drilled into Reese. “I think it’s fair to say that your and Ben’s relationship has always been emotionally fraught.”

Her nape prickled. “Our relationship has been nonexistent since I was a child. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions based on what’s best for him.”

“Of course.” For some reason, the agreement didn’t seem to match the woman’s expression.

“But if I may speak frankly, you should give some consideration to your emotional needs in the matter. Sometimes our hearts, or a misguided sense of responsibility encourages us to select options not aligned with our interests.”

“Are you worried that Ben would object?”

Sedgewick’s expression went thoughtful. “If he knew, yes, I believe it could be problematic. He has shown regression in some of his thought processes in the last few years.”

“Because of the NMS?”

She nodded. “We’ve tweaked his medications to get him back to a stage when he was more capably managing his behaviors. Talk therapy, which formerly had shown positive results, no longer seems as constructive for him.”

“I understand that you also submit annual assessments of his progress to the court.”

The doctor folded her hands on the desktop before her. “That’s a requirement of the conservatorship, yes. The court must reevaluate if the recipient still qualifies for that level of oversight. Your brother does.”

Although Reese had expected as much, a sharp blade of relief sliced through her, quickly followed by shame.

Being a conservator was a far cry from reuniting with Ben or providing personal care for him.

She knew exactly what that said about her.

“In your opinion, will he always require the same amount of care?”

The doctor took her time answering. “I’m bound both by HIPPA compliance and the terms of the conservatorship.

But I can say I am less optimistic about his progress since his hospitalization than prior to it.

Mental health issues are difficult to resolve, and when it affects cognitive processing, independence becomes a long road.

Ben’s hospitalization was a life-saving necessity.

But various complications from it set him back significantly.

He’s aware of the trust, but shows very little interest in such things.

Candidly, if he were told that you shared partial control of it…

I’m afraid he’d react quite predictably. ”

Unease fluttered. “Is that your way of telling me you’ve been unable to help him overcome his paranoid delusions?”

Sedgewick made a moue. “Therapy and medication aren’t a magic wand.

The way a person with paranoia interprets information can reinforce their delusions, even when provided with contrasting evidence.

His cognitive impairment worsened after his illness.

Of course, we constantly strive to regain the progress he lost and continue to work toward independence.

One can’t dictate the speed of recovery.

I’m sure you’ve discovered that, processing the trauma of your childhood. ”

Reese dodged the curveball into the personal. “It was a long time ago. As I got older, I acquired more understanding into how little control my brother had over his condition.”

“But inner damage doesn’t heal as readily as a head wound.

” Sedgewick nodded toward her bandage. “Trauma isn’t so much what happens to you, but what happens inside you as a result.

I read the papers. Your suffering at the hands of that madman who terrorized you must have triggered an emotional deluge of unwelcome past memories.

Recalling your helplessness while being at the mercy of someone bigger, stronger.

Retraumatization can occur, which summons the intense emotions of past events.

I urge you to consider your own emotional health carefully before engaging in activities that may end up mentally ambushing you down the road. ”

A mental collage flashed through her mind, past and recent history stitched into a technicolored quilt.

Her fall from the tree house . The snap of bone.

The jolt of agony. Water filling her lungs as she struggled and splashed.

The glint of the blade Thorne had wielded on Amelia Trainer.

Autry’s body convulsing. Thorne bending over her with a bottle of lye.

The first drop hitting her eye. Screaming, screaming, screaming…

With effort, Reese beat back the sneaky specters of memory.

Though her pulse galloped, her voice was nearly steady.

“I’m an adult with a well-developed arsenal of coping mechanisms.” She forced a smile.

“They weren’t easily achieved, but I’ve learned to set healthy boundaries for my emotional well-being.

” The woman wasn’t the only one adept with theraspeak.

“Wonderful.” Dr. Sedgewick beamed at her. “We can use our well-adjusted, mature parts to help our wounded parts heal. I’m sorry if I veered too deeply into painful recollections. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.”

“It isn’t an issue. Thank you again, for seeing me.”

“Of course.” The woman rose, glancing at a delicate gold watch on her wrist. “I’m due for a patient therapy appointment. Those take place inside the facility. I’ll walk out with you.”

Reese stood, adjusting her purse strap over her shoulder with more care than the act required.

She followed the woman through the door.

When the doctor paused at the assistant’s desk, Hayes rose, his gaze searching Reese’s expression.

Struggling for impassivity, she waited for him to precede her out of the office.

Once outside, her breath rushed out of her, a long stream of relief.

She felt curiously off-balance and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

She was aware of Hayes’s focus as they left the building and walked to the front of the main facility.

“Have a good day, Reese.” She turned to see Dr. Sedgewick give her a little wave, then take the path that diverged from the one they were on. Instead of leading to the front of the facility, it went to a door on the side of the building.

She waved back, then followed Hayes to the parking lot without a word. Waited for him to follow his usual security routine with the vehicle. When the doors were unlocked, Reese slipped inside, a mental battle waging inside her that she was determined to win.

He started the vehicle and slowly pulled out of the lot, down the drive, and then took the turn that would return them to the interstate. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She drew on her relaxation strategies, grounded herself with her center point, and slowly, too slowly, her breathing returned to normal.

After ten minutes, he looked at her concernedly. “What happened in there? You’re starting to freak me out a little.”

“What happened?” She considered the question with a clarity that had been absent moments earlier. “That’s a good question. I think I was just mindfucked by a pro.”